My Entirely Original Cliche
by FlyAwayMax
Summary: Okay, maybe my life hasn't been too normal. And maybe most teens aren't brought up in a lab and taught to fly at age four. And okay, I guess most girls my age are more worried about guys and looking pretty than being killed. But I'm not most girls, am I?
1. The Twins

**Okay, this is the Prologue (No dip, Maria) to My Entirely Original Cliche. Love the title xD. Anyways, you are by no means required to read authors notes, because unless it says URGENT!!! in bold letters, its just me giving my opinion and asking for reviews.**

**You don't have to read this chapter unless you want background info. if you're the type who wants to drop right into the story, then go to Chapter 2 this very instant. Thanks for reading!**

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Any and all color, save for white, black, and in between, was gone. Not a single hint of red, no slight dash of blue, nothing. Except for the tubes. They were a disgustingly green liquid, something Jeb felt that the monochromatically obsessed scientists behind this place had held their noses high at. He examined the tubes, scribbling words into a little notebook, which was- you guessed it- white. The script was coded in a language he had developed himself so that if anyone ever got hold of it, there was no need to worry. Only six other people on the entire planet knew the code, but that was exactly the point, wasn't it? 

"Any progress, Batchelder?" Came a cool feminine voice. Jeb jumped slightly and turned to look over his shoulder at a fellow white-coat, who was examining the large tanks in front of him.

"Oh, yes. Of course." He turned back to study the tube. "Their readings are progressing phenomenally. The female is developing very quickly, the nutrient injections worked." He pointed his pen towards a tiny, rolled-up creature inside the tube, near the top of the container, suggesting that it was extremely light. Near the center of the little body, where tiny fists rested above even smaller ears, soft blonde hair drifted silently, changing almost undiscernibly from a pale gold to a creamy brown color, the child's skin shifting tones. Little, orange wings floated upwards, the very tips of the feathers hitting the top of the tube, and giving the being the appearance of stretching.

"Impressive." The white-coat purred, making Jeb wince. "I suspect she will be extremely useful, developing her powers this early on."

"Oh, she hasn't developed them all." Jeb said sadly, examining the small girl in the tube. The white-coat gave him and odd look, and he continued on, "She has extremely muscular joints, especially for one so young, and there is a unique webbing beneath her feathers, lining the wing bones. And I expect that eventually, she may be able to use this feature" He grimaced at the term, "To possibly control the air currents she passes through, like two giant fans."

"_Very_ impressive, Batchelder." The female said, looking positively astounded. She jotted something down on her ever-faithful clipboard. "Now, the male?"

"Ah, yes." Jeb reluctantly slid in front of a second tube, where a slightly larger child was floating, closer to the middle. It kicked out at the greenish liquid and unfurled itself from the ball. His dull bluebird-like wings were tucked into slits on either sides of his spine, and his light brown hair stayed one color, unlike the girl's.

Jeb gulped, watching the child with soft eyes. "This one is not showing any signs of extraordinary powers, but tests came back showing that his average body density is 1.0, the same as that of water. He also contains high levels of iron, and magnetic metals uncommonly found in humans. We suspect that at some point, he will be able to control liquids containing water, seeing as he shows characteristics similar to the moon's pull on tides." Jab concluded, looking the boy over. His little mouth was half-open, as if gawking at all the scientific jabber. "We also have begun to notice a change in his wings; they are becoming more water-proof, and are unable to absorb water at all."

The white-coat gave him a grin, which he half-heartedly returned, and she left the room, presumably to report on other experiments. Jeb looked from tube to tube, a pained expression on his face. He tried not to look as the female's hair stopped changing at a familiar strawberry-blonde, and opened her tiny blue eyes, just to shut them again. But the longer Jeb concentrated on the male, the more his heart broke. The child looked exactly like…

"Iggy." Jeb concluded gently, giving the twins a last look before turning to exit the room. "I wonder if he will ever know he has… children."

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**Author's Note: MaxRide is not and never will be mine. but I did come up with Ditto and Blue, the babies in the tubes, so sticky fingers will be chopped off :K**

**I hope you liked it, this is the Prologue to what I hope to be a long and splendid story, if I don't screw it up. And sorry about that last thing Jeb said, it was kind of cheesy, but I think it fits xD  
**


	2. Enter Ditto

**Fourteen Years Later... **

**Ditto's POV **

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I looked back over my shoulder, barely flinching at the sight I beheld as I did so. A rather large man in a navy suit was chasing me on foot, reaching for his taser. I dove as the small tip shot out towards me, and protected my neck with my arms as I did a forward roll across the sidewalk, through a crowd of people, and into an alley. I felt the tip graze my overlarge camouflaged hooded jacket, but as I weighed that against having it lodge itself into my back and electrocuting me… it seemed really unimportant. 

"Stop! Thief!" Called the policeman, and I leapt onto the dumpster occupying good space in the alleyway. Before the balding man had even rounded the corner into the alleyway, I had jumped higher than a normal fourteen-year-old should be able to jump, and was climbing a fire escape, stolen parcel under my arm.

I turned sideways to see him better, and by now, there was the flashing of lights and the screaming of sirens to shatter the noontime stir. For such a huge city, New York hadn't bee my favorite hiding place. Sure, there was enough commotion that you could smuggle a zebra through a street without being noticed, but where there are literally over 18 million people, there is going to be an awful lot of coppers.

The man spoke into his radio, and you would have thought I was a murderer with all the fuss they were making. I suspected it to be because of a slow day. But no matter the reason, I had to make a clean escape. I didn't care that they were writing down my hair and skin color, and I even gave the man a really good look at my eyes. It didn't matter; this wasn't how I really looked anyways. The creamy tanned skin? Not mine. The short black hair? Not mine. The dark brown eyes? You guessed it: _not mine_.

I didn't even care that I heard people describing my clothes; there were thousands of people wearing camouflage and jeans right at that moment. A new, thinner and more muscular man was now trying to heave himself up onto the fire escape ladder (which by the way, probably isn't supposed to be climbed _up_). I was hanging over the railing of the platform with an amused expression on my face. I quickly lifted myself up to the next highest platform, pleased to see that the policeman was still fighting his way up the first ladder.

I sat on the next step and checked to see that everything I had _liberated_ from that store was still tucked safely into the newspaper I had snatched along the way. Always good to know what's going on in the Senate, right? Like I even cared.

I unfolded the paper, glancing back at the officer, who was a good three flights of steps below me. I only needed a moment to check, and then I would be on the roof of the building. After that, I was as good as gone.

I sighed in exasperation at the sight of my squished sandwich; that forward roll with my arms clamped to my sides must have done it. The Cheetos were probably cheese dust by now, and I bet the Ho-Hos weren't always pancake-shaped. I carefully refolded the items into the packet I had made with the paper, and jumped up the next flight of steps with the grunting cop on my tail.

"AAHH!!" I screeched as the package slipped out of my grasp. I was dumb enough to dive after it, and within seconds, I was free falling from about five stories up. I made a split-second decision and internally measured the alley. It was a good fifteen feet across, I decided. In literally a second, I had pushed my wings through the holes cut into my jacket, and they snapped out wide, catching the air I rode on.

I heard several gasps, and a loud clattering and _thump_ing as the cop on my tail fell off the ladder in shock. I swooped over the crowd of navy-suited people, cursing them all for my lost meal, which was now splattered all over the dumpster lid.

I growled to myself as I shot over the street, listening in humiliation and anger as people marveled and screamed at my glorious wings. Hot tears threatened in my eyes as I hid my face and grew out my hair back into its usual state, strawberry-blond and long.

It wasn't my fault the people were screaming. Not my fault they gawked and pointed. If I had it my way, I'd be down there too, gawking and pointing, and not being the one gliding over cars and busses, just low enough to be spotted, too high to be seen crying.

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Finally, after what seemed like hours, I relaxed my muscles, looking around for a place to land. The roof of a building was extremely appealing, but I knew News choppers would be out looking for me. There is absolutely no way a bird-girl can be left alone in this city. I decided I would be better off if people didn't see me flying; lord _knows_ how easy it will be for the white-coats to find me _now_. 

So I landed lightly in another alley, hitting the ground so softly that it was like I hadn't just bee flying over the city. I shed my jacket and tied it around my waist, already wearing a forest-green tank top beneath it. Have you guessed yet that I like my natural colors?

I reluctantly removed a knife from my pocket and hacked at my hair until the long blond locks were at my shoulders. I grew out my bangs with great effort (morphing isn't as easy as it looks) and through a quick and painless process that I can't explain without pulling out the scientific dictionary, turned my hair dark auburn. I decided a blue-eyed redhead was a little too exotic for a girl who was in hiding, so I held the knife up to my face, staring into my own reflection. I swiftly changed my eyes from their usual blue to brown and gave myself freckles. Then, I flipped the blade closed.

Pleased with myself, like I usually am after transforming, I walked casually into the street, where people were carrying on with their afternoons like there wasn't a bird-kid in their midst. _Idiots_, I thought immediately. Then I blushed to myself, realizing that a normal human education did not usually include learning how to tell a bird-kid from a kid-kid.

I wandered around, which was hard to do seeing as the currents on the sidewalk were trying to push me one way or the other. The entire time, I had my face tilted towards the sky. That was how I usually endured my severe claustrophobia.

I stopped just outside a newsstand, where the traffic of people seemed to thin considerably. I caught the eye of the man behind the counter, and gave a weak grin. He didn't grin back. I raised my brow as if to say 'Rude much?' and went to rifle through the newspapers and magazines. Of course, being the little foreign birdie I was, it never occurred to me that the news of the past four hours wouldn't already be in print. But you know what? It was okay. Because at that moment, the little television perched behind the counter flashed a blinding red, attracting the attention of quite a few people and nearly blinding me, with my over-sensitive eyes.

"Warning. There have been reports lately of a flying person. This creature was first sighted in a Woodmere alley, being chased by police, because the creature had stolen from a local drugstore." A woman's voice said, and the screen panned from one picture to another, all very blurry images of… me. "Police described the creature to be feminine in appearance, about thirteen or fourteen years in age, with short black hair, dark skin, and brown eyes. 'She' was also seen wearing a camouflage hooded jacket and jean pants. When the creature spread her wings, however, there was much excitement. Its wings were an orange color, with brown feathers near the bottom and black tips.

"Later on, a different creature was seen flying through the streets, at about sixty feet. This one had longer blonde hair and pale skin. Police believe there are multiple creatures of this kind, and references have been made to the appearance of similar beings about fifteen years ago."

I stared at the woman, who was shuffling papers on her professional-looking wooden desk._ Similar beings?_

"Rewards will be handed out to anyone that can attain information on these creatures, and anyone with such knowledge should contact your local police station or…"

I was already gone before I knew whom to call. My mind was buzzing, and I ran into more people than I could count. _There are others like me! Oh my God, how do I find them? They might be able to… What if I have a family? A real one? Friends and parents and sisters and brothers… Like Blue…_

I didn't care anymore; not about secrecy or lying low, or my brilliant plans for survival. I lifted myself atop a parked car, producing protests from people, especially the car's owner, who was busy unlocking it. I didn't care. I unfurled my great orange wings with a snap. I didn't care. I heard the gasps and cries from spectators, and saw flashes as cameras saved my image. _I didn't care_!

And with a laugh that only a person with one goal and no cares can laugh, I leaped into the air and caught the wind, allowing myself to drift along slowly, probably only clocking thirty miles per hour. I grinned broadly at the people below, allowing myself to bask in their attention.

But I didn't care. Because I was going to find my _home_.

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** Author's Note: This is from Ditto's POV. I will most likely be experimenting with POVs, but seeing as Ditto's persona matched my own more closely that Blue's does, I will probably be using hers more often. I hope you liked it, and the next installation will come after I get 5 reviews, no exceptions. I will wait as long as I have to ;) Please don't just sit in the corner, I want to know what you think. Even if you just want to swing by and give an opinion **

**Just wanted to give amsrule a shout-out; she's a great pal and writer (and I wanna see how long it takes her to realize that I posted a MaxRide story lol)**


	3. Of WhiteCoats and Author's Notes

**Author's Note: Okay, I'm so sorry I haven't posted in a while, but I've had a severe case of writer's block. DON'T MURDER ME IN MY SLEEP, YOU! Anyways, I don't know how to do Blue's intro. Here's the list of choices I've made, so if you would be so kind as to pick one… then I can get rolling with Chapter three. **

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Blue is… 

A. Attending a Suburban school

B. In the Woods

C. Attending a New York school

**Thanks for this, and don't worry, these won't affect the ending in any way, I have a plan for Ditto and a vague one for Blue; all I need is his intro.**

**Thanks for your patience with me, all 2+ of you (I wish I didn't have mutes on my hands here!). **

**The Ditto**

**((P.S. Yes, my account is named after my character, not vice versa.)) **

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**And since I'm really not supposed to write entire chapter AN's, I made you all a little filler. Aren't you glad you have me?**

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**Ditto's POV **

Never in all my years have I been in a library as long as I was that day. I typed and typed and typed until my fingers threatened to fall off. Seriously, how hard can flying people be to find? I found a blog, something about teeth or jaws, but how can a blog help me? It's just a diary, right? I also found a lot of old articles about flying kids, which got me so hyped that I nearly vibrated out of my chair. But of course, no names or addresses were mentioned, just how 'cool' and 'exciting' it was. I did manage to find out that there's about six of them. Or _was_, I didn't honestly know. By the fourth article, I was so frustrated that I actually got kicked out of the library for hitting the computer. It was _not _my fault!

So after that i scoured the city, looking for another library, but I gave up when I saw a hot dog vendor. Those guys are always easy to steal from. Just order one, pretend to dig around in your pocket for money long enough that the man is done getting it. Then just hit and run. Oh, ya, I'm good.

So I flew with my hot dog, watching amusedly as helicopters searched for what I could only guess to be me. I even flew right in front of the thing, just because I love attention. But they lose me too easily at night, so I decided it wasn't worth it. It was around eleven when I finally began circling the park for a good tree. I touched ground and folded my wings in, changing my previously Asian-themed appearance back to my usual self. I decided a walk would do me good before I slept.

I shed my jacket at the base of a tree and put my hair up in a tight bun. I pulled glasses from my pocket and finally, I was set.

My feet made uneven crunches as i danced down the pebble road, making sure to step on every leaf I saw. I watched planes zip at about the same speed I could, and helicopters flutterred still, some not even trying to find me anymore. Then I heard the voices.

"So you beleive she's still in that area?" I whipped to face the voices. They came from two people, surrounded by at least a half dozen people, half of which were insanely handsome, the other half in familiar navy uniforms.

"Yes, she can't have gone far; helicopters reported seeing her within the hour about one thousand feet up."

"Good, secure-" But I was gone before I knew what they wanted to secure. I had was racing away at top speed. The whitecoats were here!

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** DunDunDunnn! You know you saw that coming.**


	4. The Picture

He sighed profoundly as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Fortunately for him, that time was over. Now no one expected Fang to help save the world. That was old news. He scanned the screen, leaning on his hand and staring at the words blaring at him and framing a small white escape from the darkness of his room.

The initial buzz of excitement about winged people had finally died considerably so that now Fang only got around twenty emails a day, excluding the dozen trivial and byte-wasting emails that his flock sent to bug him. He scrolled through the list of results he had brought up with a search engine. This was how he was monitoring the world's reactions to his race of bird people. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking over an advertisement for skin cream.

Then something caught his eye. And this wasn't an everyday occurrence, either, because Fang had seen enough in his twenty-something years that he wasn't surprised at many things. But this made him stop mid-yawn and lean forward. He clicked on the images link and scanned for the image he had just seen, when suddenly, he saw it: a flying person.

He frowned at it and studied the photograph carefully. Fang had spent so much time looking up pictures like this that he knew when a new one appeared. Usually it was some kid photo-shopping an existing picture and trying to pass it off as another batch of bird kids.

But this one was really new. And not just new, but _new_! Fang, being the intelligent birdie he was, studied the background as well. The blur of a person was flying through a city street, pretty high up. This photograph must have been taken right as they were taking off; because of the way the creature's wings were positioned.

"Blonde…" He read the caption, frowning "Pale…"

He looked to the side at another photo, a very badly done picture of a much darker person about two hundred feet from the camera and glancing back, probably being chased. Fang tilted his head and gave it as hard a look as he had looked at the blonde. It was hard to make out.

Yes, he looked at it a lot. It was what Fang did before making his decision.

He got up suddenly, making hardly a sound, and left the room, heading for the hall.

"Hmm?" Max grunted and rolled to face Fang. She had gotten so pretty over the years, and her short, feathery hair only had to be blown out of her face. "Fang?"

He looked urgently enough at her that she sat up immediately. He left the room and motioned for her to follow. She moved down the hall and stopped at the open laptop on their kitchen table.

"look." He said quietly.

"Yeah?" She said, sliding into the seat and examining the picture. "'Zat another Photoshopped pic?" She asked, looking up at him. He shook his head and leaned forward to point at the screen.

"We never wore camouflage like that, and none of the flock open their wings that way."

"So?" Max said crossly, rubbing her eyes. "The kid's good at Photoshop. A lot of people are."

Fang gave her a hard look. "This is on a news site. From this afternoon. I don't think you can Photoshop something before it's picture has been taken." He said irritably. Max brushed it off and stared harder, trying desperately to see through the sleep that fogged her eyes.

"So… you think that these two…" She began.

"Are real. Yes."

"But the school… Didn't we…?" Max frowned.

"Yes, Max. But look, these two must be fourteen or fifteen." He explained to the half-awake avian American. "They may not have spent their whole life in the school. Maybe they were saved somehow when the School went down."

"Yeah. Maybe." Max said, shaking her head slowly. "I'm going back to bed. You look into this more, and we'll discuss this over badly done eggs in the morning."

Fang couldn't help smile as she gave him her seat and kissed him on the cheek.

"Yeah." He said to himself as she went back to bed. "Maybe."


	5. The Worst Sleepover Of All Time

"Molly"  
"No, Cory"  
"Sarah"  
"No, Cory"  
"Jamie"  
"No, Cory"  
"Nicole"  
"No, Cory"  
"Patty"  
"No, Cory"  
"Caitlin"  
"We don't have any Caitlin's at our school." Jack sighed, sticking his hand back into the popcorn bowl and turning up the volume of 'The Ring'. He knew Cory wasn't all the way fond of this movie, and that he had only chosen it to show Jack that he wasn't a wuss. Truth be told, Jack didn't care much for it, either.  
"But if we did, you probably still wouldn't like her. What's wrong with you?" Cory scoffed, turning his attention back to the TV. Jack gave him a look, his blue eyes dull. This kid was annoying. Jack had been friends with him since they had both started sixth grade.  
Cory was a football player, and so was sticking to the status quo by dating hot but brain dead girls all the time. Because of his friendship with Cory, Jack had seen stupid in all hair colors (even one girl with bubblegum-pink streaked hair!), and that broke the 'dumb blonde' belief that he used to have.  
"Why, who do you like?" Jack asked, sounding uninterested.  
"Jamie, I told you." Cory said; glad for a reason to look away from the screen as something particularly chilling happened. Jack didn't know what exactly; he was looking at Cory.  
"Oh, right. The blonde one in our English class. Doesn't she get like, straight D's?" Jack said, turning to snicker at the screen. Cory turned a very interesting shade of scarlet. Being a very pale boy to begin with, this was quite something.  
"She's hot, though." He protested.  
"But stupid"  
"And hot"  
"Yeah, but she's really, really stupid, Cory. You would do better with, like, Angela from Science. She's pretty cute. Mostly gets A's, too. And didn't you mention the other day that you like redheads?" Jack said. He himself preferred a girl with brains. It made for more of a┘ serious relationship. Not that Jack had ever had a serious relationship, but still. Cory just scowled.  
"So?" He said, ignoring the part about Angela, and then whispered, "She's hot"  
"┘And stupid"  
"Oh my God, shut up!" A red-faced Cory groaned, grabbing a pillow and stuffing in Jack's face, annoyed.  
Instantly, Jack seized up. Memories of chloroform and the horrible screams from himself and others flashed before his pale eyes. He remembered the pain, the terror, and the unnatural mood swings. The other mutants, the cold, steel cages, and being forced to exercise powers he hadn't known he had. His pupils dilated and he began sweating as the darkness of the satin pillow enveloped him and he suddenly saw one face.  
It was old and tired, withered with age and the unnatural fumes of the testing labs. It was him. The one who had killed his sister. The one who had forced him into doing horrible and painful things and then dragged him back to his cage when Jack no longer had the strength to even groan. The one who had pretended to understand and then tried to feed him and his sister to the newest batch of carnivorous mutants.  
Cory moved the pillow from on of Jack's wide, blue eyes with a small grin. "Dude"  
Suddenly, Jack saw red. The flyboys had come back! Where was ditto? Jack snapped, jumping up and sliding into a fighting stance, unfurling his enormous blue wings so quickly that he heard them pop. This boy before him, he was one of them! Jack waited for the first strike, ready for anything.  
Cory yelped and fell to his back, smashing into the popcorn bowl and sending the remote flying across the floor. "OhMyGod!" he shouted.  
The yelling knocked Jack back into the present, and he blinked slowly, his wings drooping from their position extended high above his head. He slowly came to realize what he had done, and he cursed himself mentally.  
"You're a- like those- OhMyGod!" Cory yelled. Jack kneeled down to him, lowering his wings and panicking.  
"Nonononononono! Don't yell!" He pleaded, but Cory just crawled back, scared.  
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FREAK!" He screeched, sending the outside world into a whir of barking dogs and concerned neighbors.  
"Darn it, Cory!" Jack cursed. His life was ruined. The one permanent home he had found was now just going to be one of those 'Oh yeah, I remember that place' towns. All because of his stupid, freakish nerves. Jack cursed to himself and pelted towards the huge window in the wall wrestling with the odd latch. Cory's mother rushed in, father right behind, as Jack leapt out the second-story window and caught the wind. He heard all three people shouting as his huge, blue jay wings snapped open and he soared away, feeling the eyes of dozens of neighbors and hearing the frantic barking of those accursed dogs. 

As he finally lost the last cop car, Jack sighed heavily and glanced back at the tiny speck that was Waterline. His home for two and a half years was now just a speck. "Well, now that I can't show my face in this state anymore, I guess I can have my old name back." He muttered.  
Much as people may think otherwise, soaring over a neighborhood in the dead of night with the fear of having just been discovered by the world wasn't exactly on the list of things he had thought he would be doing at Cory's house that night. But, of course, nothing could ever go right for Blue, now, could it?

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**Author's Note: **Ah, as you can see, I've made it longer, as two nice reviewers suggested. So now, we get a little more insight into Blue's past and what split him and Ditto up ((more on that later)). Thanks for reading/rereading this, if you did I'll see you next chapter! 


	6. My Paranoid Insanity

**Maha! I've finally come up with another chapter! See, this is why you love me. This time, I spent a long time on it, trying to make sure it was as good as I could get it. And yeah, I know you all wanna hurry up and get back to Blue or Fang and Max, but that's gonna have to wait. I'm currently re-reading the MaxRide series so that I can read the fourth one and know what the pickle they're talking about, so maybe my writing will improve. xD Maybe.**

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Humming to myself to sooth my frayed nerves, I squeezed my eyes shut once more, puckering my lips as if I had just shoved a handful of warheads into my mouth. I could tell I was freaking out the guy across from me, and as I peeked through one dark-lashed eye, I could see him quickly avert his gaze, eyes wide and knuckles white as he tightened his already vice-like grip on his dingy backpack.

Luckily, no other conscious person (By this I refer to people who weren't screaming into cell phones or dealing with rowdy children) was in close enough proximity to me to mind my odd behavior as I tried not to go insane with my anxiety. This bus was the last place I wanted to be, especially since it ran underground, and I have major claustrophobia. But my recent detection of danger had effectively dulled the obsessive frenzy I had flown into at the discovery of others like me.

It always has taken something this rattling to get my head on straight after a good freak-out. That says a load about my mental well-being, doesn't it?

After my chance discovery of white coats in the area, I had settled back into a comfortable (albeit paranoid) sanity. I had decided not to give them any more reason to be suspicious about my whereabouts. If I kept using false information for everything, and kept clamping my wings to my back, I would be reasonably safe.

So why was I jumpy now? And why was I humming, and pulling faces, and making hushed noises at regular intervals?

Something felt funny. In the pit of my stomach, I could feel something worming its way through me- something that shouldn't have been there. I gulped hard and opened my sleepless eyes to look around. The only thing out of the ordinary was the boy fidgeting in the seat across from mine. I sent him an exasperated glare, but he missed it.

I sat, wrestling with my worm, for the next hour and a half. I checked my watch constantly, jumping slightly whenever a phone rang, or when the old lady in the back gave a sharp hoot at her million-page novel. I ground my teeth, deciding to screw saving money and to go and buy myself a cheap little music player. _Anything_ to stop this agony.

It was kind of ironic, actually, that when the bus pulled to a sharp stop and flung half of the ill-prepared passengers forward a foot, that I was one of the few to keep my head. Of course, moments later, when a man in a sun-bleached cream trench coat brushed past my shoulder, I let out an ear-splitting screech and bolted through the door. I seriously am insane, you know.

Contemplating whether to just skip the next bus and tough out the rest of my trip on foot, I plopped myself down on a smooth, apple-red bench with my map and a printout of my plan in hand. In a stroke of genius the last time I had been to a library, I had taken the time to type out my plan on Microsoft Word. I had been sensible enough to foresee myself freaking out and fleeing to a nice protected bank. As much as the idea appealed to me now, my rational side had known that I would need to stay on track, and how hard it would be.

Is it pathetic that my intelligence and sanity fluctuate like this?

As soon as I was free of this mess, I promised myself to look for professional help. I mean, spending hundreds of dollars to lay vulnerable on a rigid couch and lying by omission to keep him from contacting the authorities wasn't my best option, but… it was an idea I ought to hold on to.

I scrutinized the plan, now sort of sad that I hadn't written down the names of any really good doctors, and ran my eyes down the page. I had written it in a made-up code so that people wouldn't read it over my shoulder, but I myself had a bit of trouble for a few minutes, trying to tell my coded 'e's from my 'k's.

The first thing on my agenda was to make it to Arizona. Now, I knew little about the race of people like me, but it seemed that there had been several sightings of bird-people around that general area. I decided that maybe spending a couple of weeks there was all I could dare to hope for, seeing as those dangerous-looking male models would probably be chasing me.

I scoffed lightly at the idea. What were those guys doing with the white-coats? I mean, _male models_? I had never understood what they had to do with the School. Were they specialists in some kind of capture, or torture or something?

Now that I thought about it, I had seen a few of the incredibly graceful men wandering around the School when I was younger. Whenever they saw my brother and I, they would grin a menacingly gorgeous grin at my brother and me before murmuring something that I hadn't understood at the time. I still didn't get it entirely, but I was sure that it meant something.

I think it was something like: _Wait till your dad sees this._


	7. That Last Face

I scanned the land below me with mild interest. Cows ambled lazily across stretches of dying grass. They mooed their discontent at the fact that their food was dying out as fall settled in. I couldn't help a slight grin as I caught the younger animals' confusion. They had never seen this happen before, seeing as this was their first autumn.

I swooped higher, shaking off the random almost-emotions that didn't compare to human emotions. But it sure had me convinced that they must have some sort of souls.

I flapped harder and dove off to my left as a farmer emerged onto the field. I was high enough that if he could see me at all, he would only have seen a dot, but I wasn't taking chances here. My dark green jacket flapped in the wind as I surged forward, narrowing my eyes against the wind and pushing harder.

* * *

"_Haha! Blue, I'm faster than you!" She taunted me, a delighted grin breaking across her pretty face. A face that was covered in an angry rainbow of bruises that sent a wave of pain throughout me. Her orange-blonde hair flew out behind her, matted and unhealthy, but her clear blue eyes were alight with a genuine happiness for the first time in a long time._

_I grimaced and scowled at her back. She wasn't even at full speed, and I couldn't catch up with my wings pounding so hard they ached. She made it look so easy._

"_Ditto!" I yelled, and she slowed slightly to hear me better over the roar of the wind in our ears. With a malicious grin, I took this opportunity to sweep past her and turn. With a cry of surprise, Ditto hit my chest head-on. The breath was knocked from me, and my wings snapped to my sides._

We both fell like rocks, and we screamed the whole thirty feet down. I twisted in the air so that she was above me, and as we hurtled into the ground, there was a sickening crack. It took a second before the pain exploded in my chest. I screeched in pain, and Ditto scrambled off of me, wide-eyed and shaken, but otherwise okay. I curled into a fetal position, biting my lip and moaning. My eyes were blurry, but I hadn't spilt any tears yet, which was good. Even then, lying there in the dirt with one or more broken ribs, all I could think about was how terrible Ditto must feel. No- I wasn't imagining it, I was feeling it. Her overpowering anguish, guilt and rage, coupled with my own array of emotions would have been enough to crumple me on the floor even without one or more ribs being shattered.

_Rough hands jerked me to my feet suddenly, and there were garbled words that I didn't care to make out. The white-coat who had me dragged me away from my sister, spitting venomous words into my ear and at other white-coats. I whimpered as I tripped over my feet several times, in too much pain to care that he was probably taking me to the center._

_The center was an angular cream-colored building behind a three-foot-thick wall of glass and chicken wire. It sat in the corner of the huge yard, almost blending into the main building that was the school._

_I shut my eyes tight, knowing full well that the sight of the building and the huge glass and electric wire dome that kept us from flying away would only settle me into a depression that I didn't need right then._

_The last thing I heard as I was dragged through the gate toward the center was a piercing cry of despair. And then my world was black._

* * *

I gasped as the memory rushed suddenly into my head all at once. With an agonized cry, my wings convulsed and then snapped like magnets to my spine. My head spun as I dropped, and I gripped my skull. I heard a high-pitched cry, and with a sudden terror, realized it was mine.

My streaming eyes assessed the scene in front of me dimly. The ground was zooming towards me; I probably had half a dozen seconds before we collided and a new form of splatter art was introduced to the browning field.

With monumental effort, I snapped my wings open and felt myself slow and zoom forward as well as down. I hissed in pain as the powerful air currents threatened to snap them from my back.

I did end up hitting the ground some time after, and I rolled to a stop with my arms wrapped around my head and neck, and my knees tucked to my chin. I must have looked like I was inside of some invisible egg. Heh, that would actually be quite fitting, wouldn't it?

My labored breathing eased as I lay there on my side, with my wings sprawled behind me. As my head cleared, I was able to think soundly, and I found myself replaying the memory in my head. Over and over, my sister and I crashed to the ground, and over and over again, I was dragged away from her.

Soon enough, I was able to lift myself onto my elbows and rest my wings. The stiff grass stabbed me painlessly though my pale blue shirt and jeans. I laid my chin on my crossed arms and closed my eyes.

I grinned at the memory. We had been ten, and best friends. No matter what the white-coats did to us, they knew that if they separated us, we would just shut down. It was our own little rebellion, a very effective defense mechanism. Once, I had even gone so far as to sit in a tight ball in my cage as they brought hot wire down on my back again and again. To their furious disappointment, I was willing to let them end me if I wasn't able to see my sister.

Then her pained, tear-streaked face came to my mind. Hot scarlet blood blossomed all over her face from various new cuts, and one eye was shut. It had been the most awful thing I had ever seen. My sister, my best friend, my only thing- to be that agonized, and all because of some stupid little stunt I did.

And it was the last face she ever made.


	8. Nicknames and Separations

**Author's note: Okay, well, I've been really bored lately, so i came up with the brilliant idea- _Hey! I should totally write!_ I'm also going to have to include Las Vegas somewhere, because blue can't fly from Kansas city to Los Angeles and _not visit Vegas_! Cannot be done. shakes head**

**And by the way, what the flip does 'Tokay' mean? Because everytime I write 'Okay', spell check tells me that it's spelled tokay. And every time, I go _'wtfbbqbutterbacon'_?**

* * *

I plucked myself up from the ground as the sun began pounding gently on my back. I had long since folded my wings to keep anyone from passing by and freaking out while I dozed in the field.

Brushing stray blades of dried grass from my clothes, I unfolded my wings. If I was a cat, I would seriously have been purring right then. I had forgotten the dreaded memory and had spent a few hours just dreaming, letting the sun dazzle me as I reached in and found long suppressed memories.

Don't get me wrong, most of 'em were of Ditto and I being put through horrible tests and having our skins burned, bruised, and generally battered. I had even come up with a really nasty memory of watching, terrified, as bright violet dye pumped through my veins as the white coats studied my circulation.

But a few of my better memories had survived. Like the time my sister had morphed herself to look just like me, and we had laughed together as an intern tried to figure out which one of us was the one scheduled for the next experiment. Of course, we were severely punished when a more sensible scientist stepped in and ripped a feather from my back and correctly identified me as myself.

I remembered coming up with our nicknames back when we first started talking and addressing each other. Officially, our names were M87340blb (Me) and M87341scn (Ditto). But we had decided early on that we weren't going to humor the scientists and use _those_ names.

* * *

"_I wanna be Captain Cool!" I whispered excitedly. Though the room was dark, and our cages were about two feet apart, I saw my sister shake her head. M87341scn snorted. _

"_That's a terrible name." She said, leaning back against the bars of her cage. For such young kids, our vocabulary was great._

_I pouted and folded my arms across my chest and we scrutinized each other. It was silent for a time, and then she sighed._

"_How about you name me and I name you?" She suggested. I hesitated, and then nodded briefly._

"_Alright. Let's see what you've got." I said, and she nodded, suddenly eager._

"Okay, don't laugh, but I've got an idea. You know how your wings are all blue and black and stuff? And your eyes are blue? And they've been training you in that water control thingy?" She began, and I nodded slowly. " Well, what if we called you Blue? It's perfect! It matches practically every aspect of you!"

_I pulled a face, but she was staring at me, excited._

"_That's terrible! I'm not letting you name me after a color!" I muttered hotly, but she narrowed her eyes._

"_Hey. Can it, Blue. I just named you. We agreed to this. Now you can name me." She said coolly, and I nearly flinched. I had been on the wrong end of her anger before, and it sure wasn't pleasant. For a girl, she could sure hit._

"_Fine." I muttered, though I promised to bargain for a better name later. "Let's see. About you… You've got blue eyes-"_

"_Like you." She pointed out, eager to hear her new name._

"_Right… and you've got that orange-ish yellow hair-"_

"_They call it strawberry-blonde."_

"_Shut up already!" I snapped, and she grinned a bit, twisting a lock of her thick hair around one finger. It really was pretty._

"_Now, I could name you Strawberry-"_

"_Oh, please don't!" She gasped, eyes wide._

"_SHUSH! Naw, I won't do that, though. Too mean." I sent her a meaningful look, but she didn't seem to understand it. She must have been sincere about liking the name Blue._

"_Well… I heard one of the scientist guys talking yesterday… and they mentioned a word…"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_It was ditto."_

"_Erm… ditto? What does that even mean?" She asked, pressing her face to the bars._

"_Well, in the context, it sounded like it means like, 'me too' or something. Like, if I said 'I really like flying', you might say 'me, too', or you might say 'ditto' instead." I explained, and comprehension dawned on her face. Then the confusion was back._

"_Cool name, but what does that have to do with me?" She asked, frowning._

"_Well…" I spoke slowly. I might lose her here if I didn't explain this right. I always had been pretty good at explaining things to my sister. Usually._

"_You can change your appearance, right?" I asked, and she nodded slowly. "Well, if someone were to describe themselves, you could always say 'ditto'. No matter what." I shrugged. It was a weak explanation, but it made more sense in my head._

_My sister didn't seem to quite get it._

"_Oh. Okay. I do like that as a name, but you'll have to explain it to me when I'm smarter, okay?" She said, and then let loose a yawn._

"_Okay." I agreed, and we both stretched out arms out to twine our fingers before bed._

"'_Night, Ditto."_

"'_Night, Blue."_

* * *

I beamed to myself once more as I coasted, my fourteen-feet wings flapping lightly as I flew to God-knows-where. I honestly had no real plans. I was headed west for no reason at all. Maybe I would stop and try to settle down in LA. That probably wouldn't work though.

The only reason I had been able to live in Kansas City for so long was because I had found a nice little school where there wasn't a whole lot required of me. I was really good at forging signatures and I had a decent range when it came to voices over the phone. I had posed as a rich kid with really strict parents that traveled a lot and trusted me with our big house but wouldn't let anyone come over. A few times, I had had to pay a hobo to pose as my uncle for parent-teacher conferences, but it didn't usually come down to that.

I had acquired money being a street performer on weekends and days off. I flew to the big city to perform in a disguise. I would do random little stunts like spitting and hitting a target from ten feet away (water manipulation came in real handy here) and doing various gymnastics. Like, single-handed handstands or arm-wrestling some of my manlier onlookers and _always_ winning (super-human strength is a lot of fun).

But in LA, I would have to lie low for a while. It was a really big city, and I doubt anyone would forget my little stunt at Cory's house anytime soon. And my yearbook photos were going to be glaring at me from TV screens for months. I resolved to cut my hair, which had gotten shaggy fast. It might even be smart to invest in a box of hair dye for the time being. Can you get over-the-counter color contacts? I decided to look into that, too.

Over the wind, I heard my empty stomach protesting. It must have been pretty freaking loud for me to hear it over the wind in my ears. I tucked my wings closer to me and started to descend towards whatever random city I was over. It was a good-sized town, but it had more suburbs than actual hard-core city.

I looked hard at the ground, and finally spotted a nice dumpster behind a little strip mall. I dropped in an almost perfectly vertical line, the tips of my wings guiding me forward as I fell, I snapped my wings open just below the roofline, so that my multi-hued blue wings wouldn't catch as much attention as they were worth. I hit the ground hard, and had to run so that I didn't do a face plant. I trotted to a halt right next to the bright red dumpster, and looked around as I tucked my wings away inside my jacket.

I was lucky enough to find a half-eaten cheeseburger, two almost-empty boxes of fries, and what looked like a box of chicken fingers. Snarfing the food down, I jogged around to the front of the store. My annoying-as-crap stomach was still growling at me, though it was a more subdued sound than before. I decided that my aching wings deserved a rest. Beaming, I practically waltzed into a nearby Target store. I grabbed a bright red basket and made my way down the aisles in turn, stopping to grab a box of 'blond guy hair dye' and a pair of cheap almost-glasses. My claustrophobia was acting up as I squeezed myself through the aisles full of aimless shoppers and screeching kids.

Reaching the food aisle, I knocked several boxes of granola bars and a package of trail mix into my basket. Absently wondering if I had enough money for my purchase, I made my way to the front, trying to avoid another freak-out like I had had back in Kansas City.

As it turned out, I needed to put back two boxes of granola bars to be able to pay for my stuff. Stupid taxes. If I hadn't had to pay the extra couple of bucks, I could have kept all seven boxes that I had picked up.

I walked out of the store, already halfway through the bag of trail mix. I paused to shrug out of my backpack and deposit my shopping bag into it, effectively doubling the size of my bag.

A sudden screaming made me jump about half a foot into the air. I whipped around to see some guy tearing away from a woman's car with a bright yellow handbag.

With only a second's hesitation, I shot after the guy, willing the lady to shut up already. I was on him in a few moments, and I had the bast- uh, jerk down in ten seconds flat.

Sitting on his back with his thick wrists in my hands, I called for the security guards that had ripped out of the store.

The man beneath me cursed and bucked, and my training instantly kicked it. I dove to wrap my arms around his meaty neck. He rolled us over, and I barely had time to kick the purse out of the guy's grip and towards the police before I was wheezing for breath under the crook's five million pound weight.

I heard a vicious snarl, and something hard came down on my head once. Twice. Three times, and I was seeing stars.

I gasped for air through the thick, sickly sweet blood crusting fast around my nose. I aimed a kick for the guy's groin, and felt the satisfying crack before I heard it. There was a scream, and I wasn't sure where it came from.

I scrambled out from underneath him, my head spinning and feeling like I was gonna barf. Like, for real.

I stared down at the thug, my left eye beginning to close up. He was writing on the ground, screeching in agony. I saw him grabbing at his leg, and I almost scowled. I had aimed for his crotch, and missed. At least I broke something. But I would have been doing the world a favor by making this guy sterile for good.

I staggered away, gripping my head and keeping my good eye on the guy. He was down for the count, and there were several police already gathering around him with handcuffs and tasers. I need to get myself a taser.

I vaguely heard someone yelling, and I mused whether I my ears were actually detached from me or if this was normal after a serious head wound.

Strong arms caught me just as I heard someone cry, "Help that kid!"

I tried lamely to shrug the hands off, but was too weak to even freak out. It didn't occur to me that 'helping that kid out' involved a hospital and trying to contact some form of legal guardian. I just sort of went limp and let them clap cuffs on my wrists as I drifted off to dream about nicknames and separations.


	9. Infatuation

**Author's Note: Hey, all. You know how I'm a complete idiot? Well I just now realized that I had cliche misspelled in the title. And it's been like that forever. slaps self Well, maybe now that it's fixed, maybe I'll get more people reading. Meh.**

* * *

I rubbed my temples, aggravated. I was standing stiff-legged at a bus stop. I had been here for at least an hour, and every bus that rolled by was either gone before I could cram myself in, or was much too crowded for my delicate sanity to take.

I swear, if the next bus is no good, I'm just up and leaving.

I looked around tersely, trying to spot the next bus. Then I did a double take. An insanely good-looking someone was staring straight at me. He looked about my age, with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. As I stared back at him, he turned a fetching shade of crimson, and I felt myself go a similar shade, though I doubted it could have been as becoming.

He was standing only a few people away from me, though almost everyone in between us was shorter than we were.

I was surprised as he looked back at me, suddenly determined. He pushed his way through the small crowd, and I couldn't feel my legs.

"Erm, hi!" The boy said as he approached me. He was a bit taller than me, which was quite a feat, seeing as most guys my age are around the same height me, since I probably stand at a few inches below six feet. Yeah, I know; I'm _so_ feminine and blah blah blah. Shut up.

I'm also extremely mature. Can't you tell?

"Hi!" I almost gasped, and a very impatient man jostled him a few inches closer to me. He sent me an apologetic look, and just then, the bus rolled to a stop in front of our crowd.

I was reluctant to leave the boy at the stop, so without thinking, my hand snapped out to grab his wrist. I fought through the crowd so that we were some of the last people to board.

I plopped down in a seat close to the back, beaming. Then I remembered the boy I had toted along, and felt like my face would burn right off. I let go of his wrist, and he grinned, sitting next to me.

"I'm Ryan Jackson." He said, and we both gripped the seat as the bus jerked forward.

My mind raced for a moment, and I could only sit there and grin at him, eyes wide as I freaked out. I imagine I had a really creepy expression going on, because something like worry flashed across his face before I righted myself.

"I'm Madeline B-Byrd." I stuttered slightly. I wasn't used to coming up with names on the spot, though mine was halfway decent.

"Cool name." Ryan grinned, and my insides fluttered. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, uh, where…?" I trailed off, wondering how to phrase it. _I'm leaving New York so that scientists don't capture me and force me into more painful genetic experimentation and training to kill _wasn't going to cut it.

"Yeah, where? I'm just sort of wandering around the city. But with bus fares, that probably isn't the greatest idea." He smiled sheepishly at me, and I suddenly had the urge to spill my guts out. But I didn't, which was for the best. I could only grin back like the pile of mush I was.

"Oh, uh, I-"

"I mean, it's okay if you don't wanna tell me." Ryan offered. I couldn't help giving in.

"No, no, it's fine, really. I was actually just doing the same th-thing that you are doing." I said lamely, and Ryan beamed.

"Oh! Great! So we can do something. I mean, I-if you want to." He added, glancing sideways at me.

I just nodded, and as soon as the bus rolled to a stop, we were off the bus, side-by-side and almost running. He led me to a small ice cream parlor, and it was just so awesomely cliché that I just about giggled.

We sat down a few minutes later, cones in hand. I examined mine from every angle before tentatively licking it. I had chosen plain old chocolate, due to a lack of experience with ice cream. It was _really_ good.

Ryan watched me slurp up the dribbly, headache-inducing goodness with a barely suppressed smile on his face, and I internally thanked the heavens that he wasn't staring at me like I was some idiot. Which I am.

At one point, he offered me a spoonful of his greenish thing that was surprisingly good and yet even colder than mine. I think it was mint or something, but who would ever think to make _mint_ into an ice cream flavor?

"So." He said, folding his fingers behind his head and reclining in his hard iron chair. I stopped licking my fingers for a moment to listen better.

"You live in New York, I assume?" He asked, and I shrugged, popping my last brown-smudged finger out of my mouth. Clean as a whistle.

"Uh, yeah, for the time being. I mean, my family moves a lot." I said, proud of myself for the fluid, plausible lie.

"Where did you live before you guys came here?" He asked, and I thought quickly. For some reason, a book review from the Internet popped into my head.

"I lived in forks, Washington. You know, up on the Olympic Peninsula." I traced the shape in the air, and he tilted his head.

"I think I've heard of that place actually. Wasn't it in that… uh… was it in a book?" He pulled a face, as if it was going to bug him until he figured out what it was.

We sat for a moment, pondering, before we shrugged and continued on.

"Is it you and your parents, or…?" he asked, and I hesitated before shaking my head no.

"My mom and me, and that's it." I said. If I needed to become 'my mom', it would be less of an awkward transformation if she were a woman. There's a reason that I don't do guys much.

"Oh. That's kind of funny." He mused, and I tilted my head, puzzled. Ryan glanced at me and then rushed to explain, "Oh, no- I mean, I live with just my dad, so I mean, it's like, just kind of weird and stuff."

I grinned as he fell silent, flustered. If I knew that people were this much fun to be with, I would have tried this long ago.

"That is kinda funny." I offered, and he grinned back thankfully.

We small talked for a while, and I was insanely pleased that I was doing so well. I mean, I wasn't as socially awkward as I could have been, but it _was_ pretty bad.

Eventually, we walked out of the parlor, and I tucked the address into my mind in case I ever flew through this part of town again.

The sun was dropping towards the horizon quickly, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of the sky as we walked down a particularly busy street. I had never really looked at the sky from down here; from beneath the lights and from among the writhing mass of warm bodies. It was hectic, and at the same time, very peaceful.

Ryan's hand tightened around mine, and I looked back down at him. We had stopped under a streetlight, and he was pressed against it to keep from being carried off in the river of people.

His expression was soft, and I practically melted, though I was confused as to why he would be looking like that.

"What?" I asked, and I moved closer so that a bike speeding along the edge of the sidewalk didn't clip me.

"Nothing." He said quietly, though I heard him perfectly. I felt my head tilt in question, and suddenly he perked up.

"Hey, let's go to the park!" He said, and before I could answer, was leading me off again. I followed, dazed and thoroughly confused.


	10. The Park

**Author's Note: yeah, twice in one night. this one was going to be added to the end of the last one, but my chappies are too long, I'm afraid. Gotta work on that ;) **

* * *

We reached the park within minutes, and I was shocked. Had we been this close the whole time? I mean, the park was practically my home/base/place to crash.

Ryan led me to one of my favorite benches, in the heart of the park, and we sat down.

"You been here before?" He asked, lounging. I nodded stiffly.

"You been here at night before?" He asked. I nodded again. Ryan grinned.

"Okay, miss smarty-pants. You ever camped out here?" His _awesome_ hazel eyes danced around my face, and I nodded smugly.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then, he burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but giggle along with him, though I didn't see what was so funny other than the bubbly feeling in my stomach.

"Alright. I dare you to-"

"You dare me?" I interjected, smiling, "What are we, like, nine?" I asked, and was flooded with a sense of irony. I had never really _done_ dares. Not even as a ten-year-old.

"Yes, we are. And for interrupting me, it's a _double-dog_ dare now. Okay, I _double-dog_ dare you to camp out here tonight with me." He grinned challengingly.

I was quiet for a moment, thinking hard. Yes, of course, I would absolutely _love_ to. But I also didn't trust myself not to freak out every time someone came by. I hadn't been in the park since the white coats.

"You aren't gonna chicken out on me now, are ya?" He asked, smile faltering slightly. I paused, and then shook my head a definite no.

After some planning and a quick text message to Ryan's dad, we were all set. He didn't even remember to have me ask my 'mom', which I was perfectly fine with.

We settled into the roots of a tree. The only thing stopping us from climbing a tree was the bright yellow 'CLIMBING PROHIBITED' signs and the regular police cruisers doing their late rounds.

We talked for a little while, exchanging family stories and likes and dislikes. Most of mine were made up, but Ryan never caught on.

And maybe I was really tired, or maybe I was just comfortable around Ryan; I don't know. But for whatever reason, I was out cold within the hour.

And you know what? It was the best sleep I had had in years. No exaggeration.


	11. He

**Author's Note: Oh, hey, guess what? I totally just got the cutest earrings that are wings :P There's red, black, and white ones, and I luff dem! If you wanna be sneaky about your obsession with bird-kids and be fashionable simultaneously, I suggest you find your own. Shakes head And they dangle and make real cute noises! EEEEEEKKK!!**

…

…**Yes, I did just spend a good five minutes plugging a product that I will not get paid for plugging. I just love them**

**that**

**much.**

**In more serious news, I have decided not to write for Max and Fang and your modern-day flock until I get the fourth book under my belt, because I don't wanna screw anything up unless it is mine. Because I **_**will**_** let my imagination loose. And it will **_**not**_** be accurate. And I will **_**not**_** be able to write about how Gazzy has x-ray vision, because I **_**don't**__**know**_** that he **_**does**_**. Does he? I haven't read the book. ;)**

**So, yeah. As you can see, I'm not so good a writer that I pull Ditto's almost-insanity from the air. I experience it. Have I done the uncomfortable dance on a bus? Yes, I have. Have I had to write itineraries for myself whenever I get stressed out so that I don't forget anything? Yes, I most certainly have. Have I spent ten minutes writing a ridiculously stupid author's note for the fun of it? Yes, I definitely have. But Ditto hasn't. Does that mean I'm even crazier than her? Meh. Too tired to delve into our psyches, so you'll just have to settle for some more of the fresh-baked nonsense that I call a story.**

…

**Wow, I just re-read that all, and couldn't help but laugh. XD I am a freaking idiot!**

**And, yes, this chapter will be confusing for a good number of you. Because it doesn't make sense yet, and I did that on purpose. So unless you're one of those people who are ridiculously good at guessing, then you're not stupid at all if you don't get it.**

* * *

His eyes scanned the night, soaking in every tiny detail. He would retain every bit of information there, no matter how brief a glance. The hot dog vendor on the dorner was closing shop, untying his apron and handing out the last hot dog of the night. The silvery blonde-haired woman that had been staring at him earlier was now talking in hushed tones on her cell phone.

He would remember this in the morning, and he would remember this fifty years from now. If he lived that long.

He glanced down at the girl huddled against the tree beside him. Her face was twisted ever so slightly, bothered by a dream. The soft waves of her orange-blonde hair had grown out over a foot over the past hour. She may not have considered the fact that she wasn't in full control of her talent when she was asleep.

He stared expressionlessly down at her, the warmth in his hazel eyes had disappeared, and the slight smile he had worn all day was gone, leaving his handsome face a blank slate.

The tiniest buzzing sound alerted him to the fact that his 'cell phone' was ringing. He looked down at the message. His father had sent him a coded message. In a split-second, he was swiftly typing a reply.

Another buzzing, and then more typing. Once more, and his father was up-to-date with his progress.

His eyes snapped to the girl as she stirred and gave the tiniest whimper. His eyes did not soften, neither did they harden. They merely raked across her face, assessing the motion. Irrelevant. It was just a bad dream.

He returned to his keypad, resting his head against the tree and hiding the phone in his lap with his face inches from the screen.

Moments later, the slightest whisper of a word escaped from the girl, and his eyes bored holes in her face yet again. The sound had been almost imperceptible, but his trained ear had caught it.

He typed faster, more urgently. Something suddenly made sense, and he experienced something as close to an emotion as he had actually come in a while.

Meanwhile, the girl lying next to him murmured to word over and over, oftentimes loud enough for even a human to hear.

"Blind!"


	12. Blind!

**Haha! Well, I am enough of a needy loser that I'm shortening the chapters just so that you people review more often. That, and because now it's easier to keep from getting these nasty, congested chapters. Oh, and of course, this is more true to the actual style of Max Ride. ;) Enjoy! And I'm nearly done with the third book for the second time, so not long til you all get caught up with Max and Fang.**

**And this chapter is going to be a bit odd and confusing, but the next chap will be up relatively soon, so you won't be scratching you heads for long.**

* * *

_My bare feet made odd slapping sounds as I raced across the linoleum. My legs burned and the hospital gown I had been thrown into was flying out behind me. I slid into my jacket, burning from the cold. I stared straight ahead, my eyes wide and scared._

"You need to learn_." Came a voice, and I inhaled sharply, still zooming down the hallway._

"You cannot trust everyone_." It sounded as though it was blaring from an intercom, though there was nothing but paint on the walls around me._

_I felt tears streaming down my face, and wondered absently when I had started crying. This hallway was never going to end. Never. I would just keep running, my legs imbued with limitless strength, and I would never stop._

_Then words begin tearing from my lips, words that I hadn't even thought of. One word, actually._

_And it brought warmth to my heart, and I felt myself smile beneath the tears, even though I had no idea why._

"_Blind!" I murmured to myself over and over as I streaked forward._

"_Blind! Blind! Blind!" I began to sing the words, my voice sounding out more angelic and beautiful than it ever had._

"_He's blind!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, and I burst into fits of giggles. I snapped my wings out, and the hallway expanded to accommodate them. I leaped into the air, and the ceiling shattered like glass as I rose through it._

_I rose closer to the sun, feeling the sun on my bright orange feathers and the wind in my blonde hair. I giggled my favorite word over and over as I zipped toward the sun. _

_My heart floated high above me as I spotted two specks up ahead. I pumped my wings harder, reaching my arms out to embrace them._

_They both turned, hovering and looked back at me._

_One of them beamed at me as if I were an angel, and held his arms open for me. But I zipped right past him, heading fro the second person, a handsome, lanky man._

_He faced me, his eyes dead but his stance tense._

"_Blind!" I chirped, fitting my outstretched hands around his neck. I sang my word over and over, tightening my grip and laughing giddily. _

_The man just hung there in midair as I giggled, his face terrified and going pink._

_I felt strong hands trying to tear me away from the man, but I held on tighter, starting to scowl._

"_Blind!" I yelled, and suddenly, the hands whirled me around to face-_

* * *

Ryan's face was stricken and scared, and I sucked in a breath, my eyes rounding out from being closed.

"Madeline!" He said urgently, and I just stared at him, my voice lost. He seemed to relax the slightest bit as I slowly came to, and he let go of my arms. I hadn't realized how strong his grip had been until I felt the blood rushing to my hands, and tiny needles stabbed through my skin through every pore.


	13. Aw, Look! A Dog!

**Muahaha! I have an evil twist that no one will see coming! -rubs hands- Muahaha! Thanks for the reviews, guys. -huggles- I'm not the most interactive author, I know, but I do read all of 'em and they make me feel warm and fuzzy. Even when i get flamed, at least people care enough to send one in xD.**

** I mean, it would be luffly if everyone that read the story reviewed, cuz then I'd have, like, at least a hundred. -consults page view chart thing- Yup, about a hundred.**

**So, yeah. I got lazy, and even though this chapter's been done since, like, and hour after I posted the last one, I got lazy and decided to wait a bit. -shrugs- Hope ya like it!  
**

* * *

We stared into another's round eyes for a long time before I realized that it had been a dream, and that Ryan had tried to wake me from it. I must have been making _some_ racket for him to look so scared.

Suddenly, I felt myself flush, and I looked away awkwardly.

"Erm, was I… erm, sleep…talking?" I asked, and he nodded. I gave a shaky, embarrassed laugh.

"So sorry." I muttered, trying to grin lightheartedly. It came out as more of a grimace.

He just shook his head softly, attempting a smile as well.

"What did I say?" I already knew the answer.

"'Blind. Over and over.'" Ryan said, and got to his feet. I followed, brushing off the seat of my jeans. Normally, I would have just let them stay dirty, but I had to look normal, right?

"Well." I cleared my throat, trying to sound brisk and composed, but I don't think it worked too well. "Erm, how did you sleep?"

He ignored my question, and touched my arm, giving me more needles.

"Should I take you home?" He asked. I stared at him for a moment, deliberating. It was over now. I didn't have anyone to play my parents, didn't have anyplace to call my home. Normal kids have houses, right?

And if I let on that I was homeless… well, I have no idea how that would have played out, but it would have required a lot of good improv on my part, and I was too tired to keep up a web of lies now.

"Yeah, that'd be good." I said lamely, giving up. We started down the trail, and I yawned widely. Ryan wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I went pink.

It didn't occur to me that I hadn't told him where my 'home' was, and we were headed further into the park. I was simply lost in Ryan's warmth.

Soon enough, we were alone on the path, in the very heart of the park. I looked around, and there was no one anywhere near.

"Uh, where are we going-?" I asked, but Ryan went stiff suddenly, and I lurched forward awkwardly without him moving beside me.

I turned to stare at him, questioningly.

His eyes were stretched wide, fixed on a point off to my far right and his left.

I turned, instinctively slipping into a defensive stance with my arms shielding my front and my wings itching to snap out into their usual positions.

I almost snorted. A large sandy dog was galloping towards us, tongue flopping out behind its head.

I cracked up as Ryan sent me a frightened glance.

"It's just a- a dog!" I wheezed, grinning from ear to ear.

I turned back to the dog, which had sped up and was heading straight for me. I fearlessly got down on one knee with my arms outstretched.

"C'mere, boy!" I cooed.


	14. Holy Crap! Another Dog!

**Here's a new chapter for y'all. I'm going to save the next chapter until I find a good name for this guy (You'll know who I'm talking about once you finish reading this). if you think you have a really perfect name, you can suggest it, and if I want to use it, i'll give ya credit in the next chap. How's that sound? Exciting? No? well, it was worth a shot. -shrugs-**

* * *

The dog poured on the speed, and it suddenly occurred to me that dogs don't run that fast. And they don't have that kind of look in their eyes, or quite that set to their jaws.

It snarled, closing the gap between us, and I shot directly sideways, covering my face with my arms and landing expertly on my feet.

There was the thick, heavy sound of two things colliding, and I peeked through my arms, ready to snap out my wings and take off.

I realized that the dog was much larger than even a regular Mastiff, and there was a feral look in its eye.

And smack between us was another dog. It was deep brown and considerably smaller, and yet somehow it had the presence of being much more powerful than the mastiff.

I shrieked as the smaller one lunged and sank its teeth into the other's neck, and I jumped into the air. I landed in a tree, assessing the situation. I would need to get Ryan out of here and somehow evade the mastiff until I could escape.

I scanned the area, and then icy panic steeled in my stomach.

Ryan was gone!

I mean, I had only known the guy for what, fourteen hours? Regardless, I felt responsible for his safety now. I'm clingy like that.

I flitted from tree to tree in panic, and didn't really mind when I heard a jogger scream and more dogs barking at the sight of the two duking it out below.

"Ryan!" I called, wondering whether he had just run away. If the dogs hadn't done it, then it was certainly my wings.

The smaller, quicker dog gave a sharp bark, and I nearly jumped out of the tree when I realized that the mastiff was down for the count.

My eyes widened at the sight of the hulking mass of fur, with blood spread out like some sort of sick full-body halo around it. Its eyes were glazed over, and it lay perfectly still. I looked at the smaller dog, and held my wings high, ready to launch myself from the tree and escape.

The dog and I stared into each other's eyes, and I was frozen to my branch. The dog wasn't lunging yet. The excitement of battle had left its gaze, and the dog seemed calm. Much calmer than I was, anyways; images of myself tearing straight upwards and out of the park flashed in my mind.

Then it sat down, and I tensed.

An odd retching sound came from its throat, and I stared wide-eyed as it began talking.

"Madeline, you're going to need to get down from there." It said in a distinctly male voice. And I fell right out of that tree.


	15. RYAN?

**So it's bveen forever since I've updated. i hit a sandpit on All That's Wrong With Me, and no Fortune Cookie stories have appealed to me yet. So I've been biding my time for a while. And yes, this does veer off the track that I was on before, but I assure you that I'll make it work out. xP So don't worry!**

**And no, it wasn't Total back there. -looks puzzled- What made you think that was Total?**

* * *

I looked up, astonished. Had that dog just talked? To me? And called me by my alias, no less?

I stared at the dog, and you might be thinking, 'run, Ditto, run!' But you know what? I don't know what books you've been reading, but I'm not the most efficient in self-preservation. I'm also quite _dumb_. Maybe that's why the white coats are out to get me.

The dog stepped towards me tentatively, and I sprang to my knees, whimpering as I put pressure on a new bruise.

"Madeline, it's me." The dog urged, and I stared at it blankly. "You know…"

I kept staring. Now that he mentioned it, that voice was somewhat familiar.

Oh, and also: there's only one person that I've ever asked call me Madeline.

"Ryan?" I blurted, and the dog nodded. I tilted my head and pressed my back to the tree, eyes widening.

"What?" He frowned slightly. Odd how dogs can make such human-like expressions when they're possessed.

"You didn't honestly think I was normal, did you?" He asked, and I couldn't help but feel really stupid. I'm not the best educated when it comes to normal human behavior. And when something that would have been suspicious to a regular person doesn't even register with me… well, let's just say I'm going to be even more paranoid from now on.

"You've always been one to trust people too soon." Ryan said matter-of-factly, as if he had known me for years.

"Oh, and you've known me for how long?" I retorted, standing. His head probably came up to my elbow, which is pretty big considering he looked like some sort of Border collie. And I'm as freaking tall as a _house_.

"Only a while." He admitted, leaning back to sniff the other dog's corpse once more. "I mean, I haven't been stalking you or anything. I have this… like, this sixth sense. I could pretty much _smell_ your wings. And you don't exactly scream _normal_, you know?"

I gaped. Am I that noticeable?

"So why did you even need to find me? Where're you from? What's with those giant dogs?" I fired question after question at him, shifting my wings in case I needed to jet outta here soon.

Ryan was quiet for a while, his gorgeous hazel eyes considering me.

"I'm your dog, Madeline." He said simply.


End file.
